


Run Babe, Run

by A_Love_Song_She_Wrote



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Biologically or adopted, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Ice Cream, Kissing, Other, Protective Parents, Protective Tony Stark, Reader is a Stark, You Decide, hiding in a closet, i'm so tired lol, this is just a meme, this is only rated t because i swear a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Love_Song_She_Wrote/pseuds/A_Love_Song_She_Wrote
Summary: You and Peter hide in a closet, panic a little, and then get ice cream.  Why?  Because I didn’t want to write anything else.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	Run Babe, Run

**Author's Note:**

> oop, rip me

“Peter, shut the hell up right now or my dad will hear you,”

“Fergalicious,”

“I said shut uP!”

Peter was insufferable. It’s part of why you loved him. 

You didn’t love it right now though, because if he didn’t shut his very kissable mouth in the next five seconds, someone would hear him, and you’d both be in deep shit.

It wasn’t that your dad didn’t like Peter. He was actually very fond of the boy, and would die and probably kill for him. The issue was that he was very over protective of you.

So, when your dear father had found you and Peter kissing quite passionately in one of the labs, he flipped his shit. So did Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Peter Quill. Peter (Q) could do nothing other than yell at his phone because he was in space, but the others plus your dad were trying to hunt you down.

And they would have been pretty easy to avoid if they hadn’t gotten literally every other Avenger in on it. They weren’t upset at all by your relationship, they just wanted to make fun of you.

They kind of sucked.

So, now you were trapped inside of a closet, chest to chest with Peter, and straining to hear footsteps outside because you weren’t really in the mood to be yelled at or made fun of. 

Fortunately, it was quiet. For now.

“So,” Peter chuckled softly, “You come here often?”

You appreciated that he was trying to lighten the mood, but you did not appreciate that he was making noise, “Shut up or I’ll kill you before my dad gets the chance,”

Peter was quiet for a moment, contemplating your words. You kept your ear to the wall, always ready for when you heard the sound of footsteps echoing down the hall, signalling your doo-

“Do you really think Mr. Stark will kill me?”

Ah, now he sounded worried. As much as you required the quiet, you couldn’t just let him stew in his anxieties.

“I don’t know. If anything he’ll kill both of us, so we’ll be in this together,” you found his hand in the dark and squeezed it, “We’ll always be in it together, got that?”

He squeezed back, “Got it,”

You smiled and tried to resume your listening.

“Do you think he’ll take my suit for this?”

“He’d better not. If he does I’ll have to have words with him,”

“How old are you?”

“What? I’m the same age as you. Why?”

“Because no one our age uses the term, ‘have words with,’”

“Oh my god, shut up,”

And for about a minute, he did.

The quiet was good.

It let you hear the footsteps.

You could feel your heart speed up as whoever it was walked past your hiding place. From the sound of the sure steps, you assumed it was Steve, or maybe Sam. You weren’t sure, and it didn’t matter. You just had to stay silent.

Adrenaline coursed through your body as you focused in on the door. The footsteps stopped right outside. You wanted to die, you wanted to throw up, but you couldn’t do either of those things on Peter or you’d be the worst significant other ever.

The quiet was deafening, it was awful, and it roared in your ears. You were so dead-

And then Peter squeezed your hand.

Once, twice.

It was light, but just enough to bring you out of your funk, and just in time to hear the footsteps leaving your vicinity. 

You buried your face in Peter’s chest.

“Ugh, thank god,” you whispered.

“Hey, we’re staying quiet, remember?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t trying to stay silent. For now, you could offer a simple i love you.

And kisses. Several kisses.

You weren’t sure whether it was the tension of the situation, or how close the two of you were, but your brain told you it was time to make out in a closet and you agreed wholeheartedly. And so did Peter.

His lips on yours felt like heaven, as always. Kissing Peter made you feel safe. His soft lips reminded you of home, and that’s what the two of you were building; a safe place to rest and a soft place to land. You found home in each other, and it was pretty sweet. Anytime you could kiss Peter was a good time

Except for right now as the door slid open revealing a smirking Natasha.

“I knew you two were in here,”

“Ah shit, Nat, please, please, don’t rat us out,”

“Maybe. What will you give me in return?”

You thought for a moment. What did Natasha Romanoff want more than anything? To keep her loved ones safe? To protect the world? A sandwich?

And then it hit you.

“I’ll give you my dad’s personal Netflix password. That way you can mess up his algorithm and drive him crazy very slowly,”

Natasha considered, her smirk turning into a full on smile, “Good enough. You can go, the center window down that hall is open. Run while you can,”

You would have fallen to your knees and thanked her a million times, but you didn’t have the time for that, so you just whispered out a thank you, grabbed Peter’s hand, and ran.

It didn’t take long to get to the center window, and the second you did you whipped around to face Peter.

“Ok, what’s the plan? Do you have your suit? Your webs?”

“Yes to both of those, but look,” Peter pointed to the ground just below the window. “We’ve been double crossed,”

There, beneath the glass pane of the window stood your father, Steve, Sam, and Bucky, who held a tablet above his head. On the tablet, you could see Peter Quill, screaming obscenities. Probably, you couldn’t hear him through the glass.

But that didn’t matter. Your father was staring directly into your soul, and he was not pleased.

“Uh, babe? Are you okay with my dad murdering you?”

“It isn’t preferable and I’d like to avoid it,”

“For me?”

There was a pause as Peter looked between you and your father, “Fine. What’s the plan?”

“Run babe, run,”

“Good plan,”

And with that, you wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck, kicked open the window, and swung off into the night, away from your dad.

He was pissed, of course, but your absence gave him time to think. He didn’t want to lose both his daughter and his prodigy over this. He decided that when the two of you returned, he would talk with you, calmly, and not take anyone’s suit away.

Meanwhile, you and Peter got ice cream, because ice cream is always better than dealing with the thought of your father killing your significant other. Things were okay later, but that didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was the ice cream, because ice cream, like you and Peter’s love, is fucking eternal.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a tumblr, @ alovesongshewrote 
> 
> please go check it out, i need validation
> 
> (jk, jk)


End file.
